


In Bloom - A Welcome to Hell Fanfiction

by ectoEgbert



Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Bullying, Coming of Age, Crying, Depression, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, High School, M/M, References to Depression, Slow Burn, not that slow !!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoEgbert/pseuds/ectoEgbert
Summary: With autumn came a vicious cycle the likes of which every kid knew all too well; the beginning of another school year. Gone were the days of unbridled freedom to usher in the daily grind of 7 hours of mind-numbing lecture. However, for one Sock Sowachowski, this fall came with an even more terrifying challenge; Sock was becoming a freshman. The public education system had never been kind to Sock, and he only expected it to be worse in high school. His interests and personality could never hope to mesh with those he was meant to call his peers, and he was fully prepared for four years of absolute hell.However, a certain blond senior, with a heart of gold behind a facade of steel, gives Sock something he's never had before; a friend. Jonathan Combs shows Sock everything the people around him forced him to miss, simply because he was different, and, for the first time ever, gives Sock a chance to bloom.





	In Bloom - A Welcome to Hell Fanfiction

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys !! gosh, i know it's been a hot minute, but how could i not come back to my two ultimate faves!  
> you guy's support with housebroken was unreal, and i know i can do even better now! so please take floral !! 
> 
> i will do my best to keep updating this one, trust me !! <3  
> feedback is beyond greatly appreciated !! if you want to talk to me directly too, you can always hit me up on discord: jayd!#0001
> 
> fresh updates and cute art is always over at my tumblr too! https://clawsitivity.tumblr.com/  
> thank you so so much! this fandom is seriously the best !!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the first day of school is the inevitability of first day jitters. Unfortunately for Sock, his anxiety finds him in need of rescue from a certain blond angel.
> 
> (Proofreading by http://arcanegelic.tumblr.com/ !!)

    Run.

    The word became the very essence of Sock's thoughts as his legs pumped furiously in the darkness, the boy desperate for an escape from an unseen, vile monster hellbent on ending him. He could feel it's horrible, hot breath on his neck, its evil claws raking his spine as he clamored to get away, but it was fruitless. His whole body screamed in agony as his legs tried to keep up, his chest heaving and his arms pumping as he only felt the being getting closer still. He shut his eyes tight, opening his mouth to scream for any sort of help, but nothing came out, his voice seizing as his breath was caught deep in his throat. Sock's heart pounded frantically as his legs threatened to give way, unspeakable terror crashing over him in waves as the being threatened to close it's wicked jaws around his neck. Out of sheer desperation, Sock dove forward, using what little fight he had left for one last hopeless escape attempt...

    As his body struck the ground, Sock sat bolt-upright in his bed, his body drenched with sweat and his chest heaving, the boy struggling to take in air. His eyes darted around his fairy-light-lit room wildly as he struggled to cement himself in reality yet again, his hands gripping at his bed sheets while his mind continued to race. It wasn't long before Sock's breathing slowed, his grip on the linen loosening, and his eyes closing as he flopped back into the comfort of his pillows; it was yet another nightmare. They seemed to come regularly these days, and were consistently focused on him running from some being he simply couldn't see, no matter how desperately he wanted to. There would be nights when he would dread going to sleep, out of fear of the nightmare haunting him for yet another fitful rest.  
    Just as soon as Sock's heart rate had slowed enough to allow the bleary-eyed boy to start drifting into slumber yet again, the alarm clock resting upon his bedside table decided it was high time for him to enter a veritable waking nightmare. Only, at this one, Sock didn't sit bolt-upright. Instead, a long, soft groan escaped from deep within this tired boy's throat, his eyes scrunching shut and his hands yanking the covers up over his head in a fruitless attempt to catch more sleep. With the alarm blaring away, Sock quickly surrendered to the harsh reality of his situation; he had to go to school. Only this wasn't just school; Sock was starting high school. While the average new student was probably already up and dressed, more than excited to start what were supposed to be the most important years of their teenage lives, Sock felt like dying. He actually pondered that for multiple seconds; maybe it would just be easier if he died. Dead people don't have to do anything, let alone go to school, he thought. However, the alarm continued to blare, and Sock knew that he must get up and face what was truly going to be his own hell.  
    In one grand motion, Sock threw the polka-dot-patterned comforter off of himself, swinging his legs over the edge of the twin-sized bed to allow himself to finally sit up, his eyes still shut and his unkempt, brown hair sticking up in every direction. His hair being in this state wasn't anything out of the ordinary, however, for he chose to almost always cover it with a hat. It was, to some extent, a security blanket; he didn't really feel right without something on his head. His wake-up process trudged on as he held his arms high above his head, a mighty yawn escaping such a small boy before he finally pulled himself to his feet, teetering slightly, but standing all the same. He wasted little time in stumbling to his closet and pulling out clothes that, of course, couldn't be tackier. Sock simply wore whatever he thought looked nice, and couldn't be bothered to conform to what other people thought of his fashion sense. After dragging himself to the bathroom, splashing frigid water on his face and brushing his pearly-whites, he pulls his signature hat over his beyond-messy tuft of hair just in time for the bus to pull up in front of his house.  
    As he heard the familiar muffled roar of the vehicles engine, genuine terror twinged his stomach for the first time that morning; he was really about go to high school! The machine of public education had never been kind to Sock, and he didn't expect it to get anything but worse with him becoming a freshman. From the time he was in grade school, Sock had been interested in anything and everything to do with dead things. While his interest brought him nothing short of elation, it only served to isolate him from those he was meant to call his peers. He can remember days on the playground when he would find the absolute coolest dead possum, and be sent home soon after for terrifying all the kids, not to mention the teachers. The next day at school would bring relentless teasing, the brown-haired boy being called nothing short of "freak" and "creep," and often much worse.  
    Flashbacks of those days filled Sock's head as he pushed open his front door into the chilly morning air, dragging his feet every step of the way to the waiting school bus. With every stride, he did his best to assure himself over and over again that if he kept to himself, he would be spared from the belligerent hostility of the average highschooler. This silent pleading continued as he made his way onto the bus, plopping into his favorite seat as far in the back as he could get. The familiar feeling of the faux-leather seats, despite their unbridled discomfort and countless rips, began to lull Sock into an extra few minutes of rest. As he pressed his head against the rectangular glass of the window, closing his bleary eyes, he considered all the possible ways the bus could crash and allow him to escape the inevitable hell that awaited him just a short ride later. 

* * *

     After what Sock felt to be hours later, but was in reality was just little over thirty minutes, he was jolted awake by the violent noise of countless highschoolers stampeding their way off the bus. One of the only perks of his notoriety was that not a soul sat next to him on the ride to school, a luxury that was not lost on him as he arose from his nap. After a quick stretch and a hurried thank you to his bus driver, a tradition for Sock since he was incredibly young, the brown-haired boy rushed his way down the steps to be greeted by the most intimidating-looking building he'd ever laid eyes on. The whole exterior was painted a horrible, faded red that appeared to have not been repainted or even patched up since the early seventies. This horrible appearance was only egged on by the pitiful, wilted shrubbery that was surely planted by a defunct 4H club (most certainly around the same time the building was painted last).  The hulking concrete castle had an evil, choking energy surrounding it to boot, sending a chill down Sock's spine. He had stepped off the bus into what one could describe as a courtyard, but the word sounded far too elegant to be used in this context. The low, threatening roar coming from the veritable sea of students surrounding him didn't help in the slightest; he'd never seen such an intimidating hoard of people, and it filled Sock with an overwhelming, debilitating sense of dread, the likes of which no pleading or hoping could ever dream of culling.  
    Sock had no time to gain his bearings on the situation before the harsh, disorienting sound of the morning bell rang throughout the courtyard, eliciting a veritably conditioned response from the sea of students. Before Sock could have even hoped to react, the mass of bodies began to move around him, violently jostling the brown-haired boy in their attempt to make it through the towering doorway. Sock's heart began to pound rapidly as he tried his best to move with the crowd, but his minuscule stature rendered the task virtually impossible. He quickly lost bearing of where he was in the crowd, his eyes growing wide and his chest beginning to heave as genuine panic pierced Sock to his very core. All that he could think of in that moment was getting away from the situation by any means necessary. In a desperate attempt to escape the sea of students, the brown-haired boy turned perpendicular to the flow of teenagers and shut his eyes tight, placing his arms as far out in front of him as he could manage. In the same motion, Sock took as big of a step forward as his shaky legs could handle, gritting his teeth as he felt the students only jostle him even more. They seemed to advance as a wall, each student that hit Sock having a horrible, snarky jeer to offer the terrified boy. Each one hit the boy like a ton of bricks; he was only trying to enter the school, and he was already being bullied.  
    Tears began to well up deep inside Sock as he continued to be shoved back with every measly step he took. After two more desperate pushes forward, the brown-haired boy had taken all he could. As the first signs of a sob hit Sock's throat, he drew his arms in to press a hand firmly against both of his ears, scrunching his eyes shut even tighter as tears began to flow. He had hoped that there would be the slightest hint of a positive aspect to high school, but his wish was quickly dashed; he couldn't even  _walk into the school_ without having to climb a mountain. Day one had only just begun, and Sock had already given up. He simply stood there, continuing to be pushed and shoved by countless teenagers flowing around him as harsh sobs wracked the boy relentlessly. He was livid, not at the people or the machine of education, but at himself. How dare he hope for a second that things would go his way; it just wasn't the life he led.  
    However, Sock's session of self-loathing was abruptly cut short as he felt fingers wrap tightly around his wrist, the grip almost hard enough to cut the blood flow off from his hand. Before the brown-haired boy could have even hoped to react, his arm was yanked with incredible force, ripping his hand from his ear and sending his willowy form hurtling through the wall of teenagers that had once held him prisoner. Pain shot up his arm as he continued to be roughly pulled, colliding with body after body on his way out of the sea of students. His mind raced wildly as he was dragged along, Sock doing his best to take any sort of stock on the situation. He couldn't get a view of the person that the hand was attached to, the sea of bodies proving too thick. Maybe he was about to get beat up! This was certainly a possibility; he  _had_ held up an entire student body from entering school, and someone was bound to be mad. This was just how his day was going, for that matter; he might as well get the snot kicked out of him. He thought, for a moment, that maybe they'd hit him so hard that he would actually die! Excitement overtook Sock's terror for the moment, reveling in the thought of finally being free from his waking hell.   
    The feeling of dread returned in an instant as, with one last mighty tug, the battered form of Sock emerged from the mass of students, the force from the pull enough to send the lavender boy tumbling to the ground in a panting ball of tears. He simply laid there for multiple seconds, a pitiful sight as the brown-haired boy shook with each sob. As he lay, he waited for a beating he was positively certain would be delivered unto him shortly. Ten seconds turned into thirty, and thirty turned into a full minute before Sock began to stir, noticing a strange lack of punches and kicks being delivered onto his form. Thoughts began to flood Sock's head; if he wasn't pulled out of the crowd to get pummeled, then who could have possibly cared enough to save him from such a grim situation? His answer was soon to be unveiled as the brown-haired boy finally edged his eyes open, a harsh sniffle wracking his body as he did so. The first sight to greet his eyes, still reeling from the sudden influx of light, was a pair of the most beat up green converse Sock had ever seen. They appeared to have been well beyond the classification of well worn, the neon fabric streaked with years of dirt and wear. A single blink later and Sock's eyes were travelling slowly up a pair of denim jeans to the seam of a gray hoodie, the article of clothing having seen better days in kind with those green shoes. It was finally that Sock's ever widening green eyes had traveled far enough to fall upon the face of his savior, thus beginning the grand downfall of Sock as he knew himself.  
    It was hard to describe what about the blond struck him so suddenly; was it the perfect messiness of his hair? His rounded jawline? Or perhaps those steel blue eyes that stared down at Sock from what was easily 6 feet in the air? Maybe it was the fact that he was just saved from one of the worst situations of his life to date by this person? It was hard to tell. Nevertheless, the brown-haired boy found himself visibly shaken by the sight of the towering teenager, unable to tear his eyes off his form. It was strange, he thought; the way the kid caught the rising morning sun, it gave his form an almost heavenly glow. It was as if he was Sock's guardian angel. The thought forced a small, almost imperceptible grin onto the boy's tear-streaked face, relishing in even the slightest hope that this could be true. However, his moment of elation was to be cut short as, after almost 5 minutes of staring, the blond boy finally spoke.  
  
    "I really don't get why you're smiling. You almost got trampled, y'know."  
  
    His voice had a hint of coldness to it, but it failed to fully penetrate the thick layer of apathy the came with his words in kind. It was as if he was trying genuinely to put feelings behind his words, but he simply couldn't do it. The tone of his words sent a chill up Sock's spine, forcing him out of his daze into an upright sitting position for the first time since he had been yanked from the crowd. Socks words came hastily, as if he felt obligated to respond in that instant.  
  
    "U-uh, yeah! Ha! Thank you, bud! You saved me; like, actually saved me! It means the world, uh..."  
  
    He sniffled as he finished speaking, his voice still thick as one's usually is post-cry. The tears made his eyes glisten in the rising sun as he looked up at the teen, as if portraying hopefulness.  
    
    "Jonathan. And seriously, don't mention it. I'm not some senior dick; I actually didn't lose my conscious to testosterone."  
  
    This time, the coldness was beyond apparent in his voice, Jonathan clearly holding an incredible amount of disdain for his peers. His words and tone struck a chord deep inside the now-kneeling form of Sock, a small gasp being drawn in by the brown-haired boy as he finally stood up. The upright state was not to last, however, as Sock began to immediately teeter on his feet, the combination of jostling and suddenly standing making stability an afterthought for him. Jonathan, however, was quick; as soon as the brown-haired boy began to swoon, the blond lurched forward to grab each of Sock's shoulders with a vice grip. His expression was veritably unchanged despite's Sock's eyes seeming to widen even more, the pair's faces less than a foot from each other as the brown-haired boy finally seemed to gain some footing. Sock couldn't have hoped to hide the peachy blush that crept onto his face as green met steel blue, causing his hands to ball into fists almost involuntarily. It was as if all the previous panic from the student stampede was melting away at a pace Sock couldn't have hoped to keep up with, and was portrayed in the softness and unsure tone of his voice.  
  
    "U-uh, absolutely! Thank you, Jonathan! I- uh..."  
  
    As Sock fumbled with his words, clearly taken aback by Jonathan's helpfulness, the blond wasn't nearly as invested in their meeting. With the ring of the second bell, Jonathan's gaze broke away from Sock's to scan the now-clear courtyard, a soft sigh escaping him as the grip he had on Sock's shoulders loosened to allow him to finally stand on his own. The pair each taking a step back in kind, Jonathan's expression seemed ever unchanging as he shoved both hands back in the pocket of his hoodie. This was a stark contrast to Sock, who locked his fingers awkwardly in front of his chest, not even having the mindfulness to straighten his backpack.   
  
    "Please, don't mention it. Just get to class and keep your head down, yeah?" said Jonathan, his tone portraying something bordering on a genuine interest for Sock's well being. The tone took him by surprise; it had been literal years since someone had addressed him in any sort of similar tone, and it sent unbridled warmth swirling deep inside Sock's belly.  
  
    But before he could have hoped to respond, Jonathan was padding briskly and purposefully through the doors of the school, leaving a bewildered Sock staring after him. It was barely his first day of high school, and Sock had been on the most wild emotional roller coaster of his life. What Sock expected to be a stream of typical school monotony had given him one of his lowest lows, and, to his most genuine surprise, one of his highest highs. Just where had Jonathan came from, and why had he decided to help Sock? He didn't seem like the type to take an immediate interest in random students, not even to mention the fact he was a freshman! His entire being oozed apathy.  
    Questions filled Sock's mind as he finally made his way through the grand doorway into the school, the brown-haired boy simply unable to shake the image of Jonathan with a heavenly aura out of his mind.  
  
   
    


End file.
